Chapter Thirteen #2
Sometime after seven thirty, I wrenched myself from underneath the covers and stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen. I had changed out of my dress clothes too and wore a pair of baggy sweatpants with a green tank, more remnants of my military days. Magda stood in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
“Good morning, Mr. Greene. Would you like some coffee?” She took a cup from the cabinet adjacent to the sink.
“Please, thank you.” I sat at the bar stool. “I have company this morning, as well. I’d like to take her breakfast in bed if you don’t mind.”
Call me a romantic. When it suited me. And with Lila around, it certainly did.
Magda’s eyebrow lifted as she digested my words. I knew she didn’t expect this from me. Since buying the beach house, I hadn’t dated anyone, and I hadn’t slept with anyone, either.
“I appreciate your discretion about this,” I added for good measure.
Magda had been an excellent employee so far, but I still felt the need to give her this reminder. I didn’t want my personal life getting tangled with the professional one I’d built. Not yet, anyway.
“Of course, Mr. Greene. That is your personal business.” She turned on the coffee maker. “What would you like me to prepare?”
“Scrambled eggs, bacon, and fruit would be wonderful, thank you.”
She turned to her task, and I picked up the weekend edition of the Wall Street Journal waiting for me on the bar.
I rarely had time to read a newspaper or a magazine, but I liked to peruse this one when I could.
Besides, it featured an article about the tremendous growth of InstaPost and our search for a second headquarters in South Florida.
I scanned the article, pleased with how Preston had handled the question, not giving away too much.
He’d always been so much better at public relations than I was.
After that, I read a few more pretentious analyses pieces about economic trends and market predictions.
Soon enough, though, Magda had two breakfasts and cups of her famous coffee arranged on a silver tray. “Would you like me to accompany you upstairs with this, sir?”
“No, thank you. I’ve got this.” I was in the mood to take the food to Lila myself.
I winked at Magda as I got up from the bar stool, wondering what she must think of me. I knew I could be a demanding employer, but in more than six months of employment, she hadn’t complained about my demands once. She’d always met and even exceeded my expectations.
“This looks great,” I said as I took the tray from her hands. “As usual.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Then she grimaced.
“What?”
“Well…” She looked down at her feet for a second then back up at me. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but whatever is going on with you, and whoever is upstairs, keep it up, okay?”
Still holding the tray, I stepped backward in surprise. “Oh really?”
“You’re happier. More relaxed, I think.” She smiled.
I studied her. “You don’t typically say things like this, Magda.”
“I know you don’t like it, that you like to keep the personal and professional separate, but someone has to look out for you, Mr. Greene.”
I grinned. “And I suppose that’s you, huh?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “That’s me.”
“Then I consider myself lucky.”
With that, I turned and took the tray upstairs to the master bedroom. Magda was right. I had more spring in my step than usual, and I’d noticed it too. This was turning into a good morning.
Lila was awake and dressed when I opened the door. She jumped backward when it opened, one hand holding a hairbrush I guessed she’d found in the master bathroom cabinet. My heart sank a little when I saw her in the previous night’s outfit.
“Oh God, you scared me, Adam.”
“You okay?” I grinned. “Sleep well?”
“I did.”
I crossed the room and placed the tray on the bed, which she’d already remade. “I thought you might be hungry, and Magda makes the best scrambled eggs in town.”
“Does she?” Lila approached the bed and pecked me on the lips. It was the first time she’d initiated kissing me, and it felt incredible. “Thank you for this.” She hesitated, her eyes searching my face. “And for last night—for not judging me. For not—”
“What is there to judge? We all have things we aren’t proud of, and what your father did isn’t a reflection of you, Lila.”
“I know that, but…” She walked away from the bed and into the bathroom.
“I have a lot of guilt about it. A lot of pain,” she said over her shoulder.
I watched her tug the hairbrush through her hair before pulling it into a ponytail.
“And you are literally the only person who knows the truth about my father. Well, besides the creditors.”
“Sometimes the banks can be pretty cold about matters like this. They want payment, and they don’t give a damn how they get it.”
She reentered the bedroom. “You’re right about that.” Her gaze swept over the tray. “So, do you suggest we eat this feast in bed?”
“We could, but I have a better idea.” I picked up the tray again and nodded at the Juliet balcony at the other end of the room. “Let’s go outside. Fantastic morning out there.”
She nodded. “Good thinking.”
After getting her phone from her purse, Lila followed my lead, and we sat at the small table. Even in the cramped space, I found it cozy, and it showed off the gorgeous view that had convinced me to purchase the property in the first place.
“Bon appétit.” I raised my mug of coffee.
“Bon appétit,” she repeated.
We ate the first few bites in silence, savoring the moment. Magda had artfully displayed the food, adding to the sense of occasion. And this might have been the nicest breakfast I’d been at in a long time, despite the simple food.
“What are you doing today?” I asked when I got about halfway through my serving of eggs. For once, I didn’t have much of a plan for the next few hours, and I knew one thing.
I wanted her with me for as long as possible.
Lila cocked her head and twisted her mouth, studying me. “I often visit my mother in the afternoons on Saturdays. She’s usually in the garden at the facility, and it looks like this will be a nice day for that.”
“What’s it like, going to see her?”
Lila shrugged. “Not fun but not bad either. She often doesn’t recognize me, but I’m used to that. We’ll probably do some puzzles or whatever art project she has going on. It’s not a great life, but it’s hers.”
I pursed my lips, cursing the fact that not only had her father burdened her with a mess, but she also had to deal with it alone. And then something in me softened a bit. “Would you…would you like some company when you visit her?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “You know what? I would.”
“I’d love to come,” I replied, and I meant it. “Maybe one day they can find a cure for Alzheimer’s. Such a cruel disease.”
She raised her glass of orange juice. “I’ll drink to that.”
We fell silent again, the good kind of silence. It was enough for me, and something inside me sensed it always would be.
But then her phone buzzed.
Lila picked it up from the table, studied it for half a second or so, and frowned. “I’m sorry, Adam.” She leapt from her seat. “It’s…I have to go.”
“What?” I stood too. “Why?”
“It’s urgent.” She hardly looked at me, already focused on the task ahead, on leaving my balcony, on departing my property. “I have to go.”
I followed her into the bedroom, our breakfast feast barely a thought anymore. “What’s wrong, Lila? You sound upset.”
“No, I’m—” She slipped one foot into her shoes, then the other. “I can’t really discuss it right now.”
“It’s not your mother, is it?” My mind flipped through a myriad of reasons that would make her leave in such a hurry. “The bank? Something else?” I followed her around the room and then downstairs as she gathered her things. “Tell me. You can tell me.”
“I’m fine,” she said when we arrived at the garage. Whatever mood and comfort had been there at breakfast had totally disappeared by then. “I just need to get home.”
“Okay. I can take you there.”
Still confused by her abruptness, I drove her back to her house on the island. She didn’t say a word during the ride, she just kept looking at her phone and typing out messages. When we arrived at her driveway, Lila barely turned to me once she opened the door.
“Listen, last night was great.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “It was amazing. And I almost forgot—anyway, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I frowned again. In fact, it felt like I’d been frowning since she received that message. “Whatever is going on, I wish you’d talk to me about it.”
“I’m sorry.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I can’t.”
“You can.”
She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand. No about this. No one would. My life’s a mess, Adam. It’s a total disaster, and that’s about all I have to say about it.”
“I hardly think that’s true.”
She didn’t look at me anymore. “I’ll see you later, okay? This was nice. I needed it, even if I didn’t deserve it.”
And then, just like that, she was gone. What the hell just happened?